


Red Scorpion

by Renawolf19



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-08-09 04:55:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16443320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renawolf19/pseuds/Renawolf19
Summary: You're a freelance assassin, occasionally commissioned by the Galactic Federation. You've just completed your latest assignment, when an awkward old man chats you up in a bar. You don't take any notice, but when you need a new, reliable arms-dealer, you're in for a surprise...





	1. Chapter 1

You had hardly ever fallen a victim of alcohol, but after today you certainly needed a drink. Or five.  
Drinking alone in a pub full of loud strangers who often stepped out of line had never been your cup of tea, but the shops stopped selling alcohol after 10pm. Fuck your introversion, you can suck it up just this once!  
Having been a Tuesday also worked in your favour: most pubs had only a few customers at this time.  
You walked in the pub nearest to your apartment. It had a nostalgic decor: shiny chrome, tall stools. It was quirky, with a half-round shape wood bar, neon lights, and art deco detailing. The bartender made a mean martini, while customers could listen to an old-fashioned Zodiac jukebox.  
‘What can I get you?’ the bartender asked.  
‘Vodka martini please’ you sighed.  
‘Tough day, I presume?’ he jumped right into the compulsory customer-entertaining phase. Maybe he was genuinely interested - or bored-, but 9 of of 10, it had been a smooth way to guarantee a huge tip.  
‘Tell your barman your troubles, right?’ you threw him a tired smile. He smiled right back. You instantly found him hot: he had gorgeous green eyes, unruly black hair, a naturally lean body, and velvety voice.  
‘I’ve got time today, as you can see, there’s hardly anyone here’. The fact he prepared and served the drink within seconds, definitely worked to his advantage.  
‘James Bond-style, m’lady’ he added, still smiling. That remark made you chuckle a bit. To hell with it, you could afford a little flirting with a handsome barman! What harm would it do?

Three drinks and and some playful banter later, you agreed to see him behind the bar during his break. He walked to the other end of the bar, to serve a new customer, an older, tall guy with wiry bluish hair and rough voice.  
Suddenly your implantable phone started to buzz in your head. Your commissioner called. Goddammit, this day would never end! You received the next assignment using the latest neural lace technology, playing back all the details from a computer directly to your eye.  
You absorbed all the information and gasped. Sometimes you wished you had never gotten into this business.

The dark alley looked even more bizarre when the only street light started to flash. It was the perfect location for a secret affair or crime.  
You felt yourself getting hot again, got turned on by the idea of what would happen next.  
‘So, what have you been up to?’ the barman asked whilst running his hand over your butt and squeezing it.  
‘Enough of the small talk, I’m sure you don’t have much time’ you said; wrapped your fingers through his hair and kissed him roughly. He got the message; pushed you against the wall, pulled up your skirt and yanked your panties off. Once he had taken them off completely, he shoved them in his jeans pocket.  
Damn, you did like a pervert!  
He lifted you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist and you pulled him in. Slowly at first, he began to slide his cock in and out, and quickly sped up his thrusts. It felt amazing, you had wanted a hard cock for a while. Your orgasm built up pretty quickly, due to the combo of a perfect angle, the barman’s decent manhood and his expert moves.  
You kissed him softly, and as he zipped up his jeans, you reached into the inner pocket of your jacket and pulled your laser gun, pointing right at him.  
‘Sorry, honey, I didn’t know you were my next assignment until ten minutes ago, and I didn’t want to let your sweet dick go to waste. For all it’s worth, you’ve been great!’ and you pulled the trigger.  
Couldn’t help but let out a sigh of exasperation right after: killing a great lay had never gotten easier.  
You leaned over his beautiful dead body and injected him with a shot of autonomous bots that dissected the body into tiny parts and consumed the remains within minutes. This was one of your favourite gadgets - and most importantly, fundamental to your work. After all, if you hadn’t managed to get rid of bodies without a trace, you couldn’t have been a successful assassin.  
You were about to grab your belongings and leave when you saw a whirl of emerald green appearing at the other end of the alley and a spitting image of the old man from the bar stepped out of it, wearing high-tech exoskeleton armour. He pointed a gun right at you.  
‘Time’s up, Red Scorpion!’  
You only had a split second to activate your plasma shield - to deflect the bullet - and shoot him with your stun gun. Since his knocked-out body blocked your only exit via the street, you chose not to risk getting close to him. The fact he had come through a portal raised alarms in your brain: he could have regained consciousness quicker than expected. Therefore the only way back was through the back entrance. You felt a knot in your stomach for a moment - after all, someone could have noticed that you followed the barman and only one of you returned; on the other hand, they wouldn’t have had anything on you.  
You walked through the bar in a relaxed manner, as if you had just returned from the loo. No one even flinched or noticed. The old guy was still sitting at the bar, sipping a large whisky.  
When he walked past him, he lifted his head and turned towards you.  
‘Did he give it to you good?’ he asked casually. You stopped, took a deep breath and turned around.  
‘Not that it’s any of your business, but I only went to the loo. I think it might be time for you to call it a night; you’re starting to see things that aren’t there’  
He threw you a wicked smile and stared at you intensely. Your heart skipped a beat when you realised how identical this man was to the one you had just stunned. Could they be twins?  
Still, you couldn’t allow to lose your cool.  
‘Oh, honey, I can assure you, alcohol is meat and drink to me. Are you up for a wager?’  
‘No, thanks, I’ve had enough for today’ with that you turned around and walked towards the exit. You heard him chuckle behind you.  
‘I bet you have!’


	2. Chapter 2

It didn’t take you long to hit the sack that night: this week had been insane. You killed five individuals, two humans just in one day; the others had been from Dimension D60. You felt exhausted; still, it was worth it: your commissioner rewarded your efforts generously. Finally you had enough money to purchase the latest sonic shotgun, a weapon you had your eyes on for a while.  
After a rejuvenating sleep you felt a million dollars. It was time to check the news. In order to be successful in this business, you had to be on top of everything happening around you; and that included news from other dimensions.  
You tried really hard to focus, but couldn’t banish the two old guys from your thoughts. Mind you, it hadn’t been the first time some military organisation tried to kill you.  
Who the hell was the old man in the bar; did he have any connection to his doppelganger and why did they follow you? Provided they both had been there on purpose...but then again, there must’ve been a connection, this was far too strange for a simple coincidence.  
You had ways to dig up information on people - or, rather the term you used: on individuals. Tracing a military person wasn’t too difficult; you just had to hack the database of the Galactic Federation.  
Years ago they caught you after several successful hacks, but you made an advantageous deal with them. They often assigned you to kill certain individuals - mostly enemies of the Federation or freedom fighters. You worked for them on a contractor-basis; which meant you didn’t need to believe in any political shit they had propagandized, as long as you finished the job properly. Nowadays you could access their system any time, without the anxiety of being arrested.  
You entered every detail you could recall of the armour-type and the badge the mysterious attacker had worn. The data seemed to be insufficiently brief. That couldn’t be right, usually you had to go through dozens of files. Whatever information the Feds had on this individual, it must’ve been top secret! Damn...Without level 9 access you couldn’t read the whole thing. Unfortunately, you had been far from gaining that grade of leverage. For now…  
You had connections who could assist with overcoming security issues; however, you just recently learnt that a most trusted acquaintance had been shot dead. What an inconvenience! He was also a reliable, decent weapons-dealer. Brilliant...it’d take quite some time to find someone like him again.  
You couldn’t just sit around with a mysterious assassin on your tail. It was time to find a new arms-dealer and purchase the sonic shotgun.  
You logged in to the virtual community of Typhoon, a site for classified ads and services. After hours of research, you found a lead. Krombopulos Michael, an outstanding alien assassin, promised to put you in touch with his dealer. You admired Krombopulos, he had a certain elegance and precision that you hoped to perfection one day. None of his targets had ever escaped. 

Later that night…  
Krombopulos advised that your dealer would meet you in the multi-storey car park behind a huge shopping centre. You found his choice a bit peculiar, but trusted Krombopulos. He said he had met this guy on numerous occasions and had never come across any issues; all transactions went smoothly. 

Five minutes, in-and-out. 

It was show-time.

You arrived to the second level entrance a bit earlier. Having been assigned to a new dealer, you felt a bit jittery, and you just wanted to take a good look at the guy before jumping into anything with him. The fact that anyone could see you didn’t make things easier. “Damn, I hope he has some sort of obscure glass on his vehicle!” you murmured to yourself.  
At 11pm sharp, a weird, flying saucer-looking vehicle arrived and parked neatly in spot number 5. The guy clearly knew what he was doing, spot 5 was away from the door, out of the security camera-range, and conveniently positioned in a dark corner with no lights.  
The butterflies in your stomach calmed down a bit; on the other hand, you couldn’t help but feel more anxious.  
The storey was quiet, couldn’t see a single being apart from yourself and this mysterious driver.  
You walked up to the vehicle, trying to keep a steady pace and bolster your confidence. After throwing a look at the vehicle, you started to build a bit more trust towards this person. Even though it looked like a pile of garbage from ‘Pimp my ride’ (the before-shot), you had to admit, it was the perfect camouflage vehicle for selling weapons, or for any other shady business. It just faded into the background perfectly.  
You knocked on the window.  
The driver rolled the window down and turned towards you. 

Your heart skipped a beat.  
It was the old guy from the bar, with the unruly hair, the labcoat and the wicked smile.


	3. Chapter 3

‘Are you going to stand there all night or get in and talk business? I have other things to attend to, y’know’ he threw you a cocky smirk. You tried to compose yourself, not to look an utter dummy.  
‘Sure’ you opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. You tried to avoid eye contact, which seemed absurd and childish; - after all, you had looked hundreds of tough criminals in the eye without a blink. You didn’t know anything about this guy, still, you felt like a schoolgirl in his presence.   
‘Have you got the sonic shotgun?’ you asked, fiddling with the case containing the money.   
‘Here you go’ he said and handed you a smaller case. Whilst you opened it to check, he continued ‘I didn’t think I’d see you so soon after last night, and I certainly did not take you for an assassin’  
You gave him a stern look. He laughed in response. Loud and cocky.   
The bastard had a rough charm. He must’ve been in his late 60’s; still, seemed to be in excellent shape.  
‘Don’t get me wrong, I DO like it’ he winked at you, took a flask from his lab coat and raised it to his lips ‘To a successful partnership!’ After sipping a mouthful, he offered the flask to you.  
‘Ehmm...thanks, but I have a no drinking whilst working policy’ you smiled faintly. ‘Here’s your money’ you tried to divert the conversation, but he was persistent.   
‘C...come on, just one sip, to establish our liaison. Alth..ergh...although, I can think of better ways to do that’ he purred.   
Damn, why couldn’t you resist his smile? You took a large sip of his flask that ran through you like a thunderbolt. You hadn’t eaten all day, that’s why even one sip of alcohol - man, this was pure whiskey! - went right to your head.   
‘Really? And what would those be?’ you returned the flask with a whole-hearted smile this time. You looked into his piercing eyes, and saw such a hunger that made your legs tremble. What the hell was going on? Did you really have the hots for this mysterious stranger?   
‘I’ll give you three guesses’ he grinned triumphantly.   
‘I thought you said you had other things to attend to’ you managed to crack a smile again; though you couldn’t unsee the growing bulge in his crotch area.   
‘Yeah, well, I couldn't miss such an opportunity’ he gripped your chin to hold your head firmly in place and began his attack with a rough kiss. His scent drove you crazy, didn’t care if anyone had seen you anymore; couldn’t care less if the guy had been an assassin himself. You pulled him in, as much as the tight space allowed and returned his kiss.  
‘Show me how you appreciated that bartender last night, you little slut’ he snarled whilst nipping your skin above your breasts, then grabbed your left hand and guided it to his crotch to touch his hard cock through the fabric of his trousers. His hand slid to your breasts. Freeing them from your top and bra with quick, expert moves; he cupped and squeezed them, firmly and controlling. You couldn’t help but moan when his fingers moved to your nipples, tweaking them.  
‘Harder’ you whispered.  
He stopped for a few seconds, making you wait whilst cocking his head mockingly to the side.   
‘You’re not enjoying this, ARE you? Shocker!’   
Finally his fingers gripped your left nipple, twisting and pulling it, as his other hand squeezed your throat.  
‘Do you want me to threat you rough, baby?’ it was a rhetorical question, but his tightening hands on your throat made you think he demanded an answer right then and there.   
‘Y-yes…’ your throat constricted by his clutching hand.   
‘Get in the back’ he commanded and you obeyed as if you had been under some magic spell. He followed incredibly quickly.   
He lowered his head to your bare tits and licked your nipples, sucking and biting them harder and harder each time. His hand slid down into your jeans, rubbing over your panties. His hips pressed forward, grinding his hard cock against your belly as his fingers forced their way into your wet cunt.   
‘Fuck me already’ you hissed. He laughed again.  
‘Such a cock-hungry slut!’ by the time you had the opportunity to catch your breath, he had already pulled your jeans and panties off. You tried to return the favour, but your hands were trembling of excitement and anticipation. You couldn’t even undo his belt.   
‘Allow me’ he smirked and unzipped his trousers to free his huge, veiny cock.   
He didn’t waste any time either: lifted your legs onto his shoulders; rubbed the head of his cock over your moist lips, then up over your clit. He grinned as you inhaled sharply at the sensation.  
‘You want it, don’t you, slut?’  
You bit your lips whilst he was playing with you like a cat toys with a mouse. His cock was rubbing up and down, teasing your lips. He slid it back, the head poised to thrust into you.   
You felt his fingers squeezing your throat whilst his hips rocked. The pressure of his cock caused an overwhelming need; he pushed it gently, but not quite hard enough to slide in. His moves made you moan in frustration as your pussy cried out for more.  
‘Please… I… I need you to fuck me!’  
He smirked triumphantly and decided you had been teased enough.  
One hand on your throat, he rammed his hips, driving his enormous rod right into you, making you squeal.   
‘Tell me sweetheart...am I as good as he was, hmmmm?’  
You replied by a long moan, as he impaled you, thrusting into your begging cunt so hard it made your tits bounce. His cock slid out just for a moment, then he slammed it back again. He grunted as he drove harder. It felt amazing.   
Your pussy clenched and spasmed, and your hips were bucking to meet his thrusts. You cried out when you realised you were going to cum. He pounded you through your orgasm, the most intense one you had ever had. The cloud of sweet pleasure blurred your senses: you saw his lips moving, but couldn’t make any of it out.   
‘Dear...God…’ you were panting like a winning marathon-runner.   
‘Correct, but you can address me as Rick for now’ he grinned whilst tucking his cock away. Then he had another sip of his flask.  
‘Now how’s that for a welcome party?’


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The fact Rick had given you one of the most memorable experiences of your life shouldn’t have changed your attitude towards shady-looking characters. You kept telling yourself this had been a business-transaction only and you shouldn’t have trusted anyone in the first place. Especially Rick, whose doppelganger had tried to kill you.  
This matter would need some investigation; however, you’d need to put this on hold for now.  
Another assignment just came in from the Galactic Federation. This seemed like a biggie: the target was a group whose members had belonged to a special operations force. Even though a part of you was shitting yourself - you’d never had to take a highly skilled special forces unit out before - your heart was racing of excitement: this could be your big break! If you managed to complete this assignment to the Federations’ satisfaction, you could get into the elite club of assassins - we’re talking Krombopulos-level.  
Once your first dose of exhilaration wore off, reality slapped you on the face. This task required extreme accuracy, detailed research and combat skills - expertise that you weren’t certain you had mastered. Still, you had to give it a shot - this could make or break it!  
The files containing the ID pictures of the members came like a bolt from the blue. It featured five military professionals, all of whom were the spitting images of Rick - with slight aesthetical differences - most importantly, you spotted the man with a left dilated pupil: your assassin. You had never believed in predestination, but this couldn’t just happen by accident!  
You started with the data pulled from the Federation's database. To your surprise, they didn’t have much on these individuals, apart from some brief info about their studies, military career and a few of their missions. Why did the Federation want to exterminate a special force team? The alarm went off in your brain: it must’ve meant the Federation had already erased the majority of the info. These people were officially ghosts. This usually happened when the Federation disavowed certain individuals and erased most or all records related to them. They could’ve been the pride of a nation once and suddenly fell off the pedestal for some rogue, self-proclaimed act of valiance.  
You spent two days straight with cracking the security codes of all the organisations that had any information on special forces. A few times you had an inclination for asking Rick, but you quickly brushed the idea off - for all you knew he could’ve been set up to terminate you.  
There was another way to gather significant data on disavowed individuals, but you had avoided it at all costs whenever you could. It involved activating a spy-device called Senso-Cell, which could easily reprint anyone’s location, secrets, profiles and history. The issue with Senso-Cell was when activated, the people under surveillance could also retain information on you - only had a small window of a few minutes to run your research and gain all the necessary data. This meant you had to log in-and out several times when you needed an exhaustive report, and sometimes that could trigger the privacy settings to turn off.  
‘Fuck it’ you growled, exhausted. After all, this guy had already been on your tail...it seemed to be worth the risk.  
You activated all security measures you could think of before logging in to your Senso-Cell account.  
You were working frantically, however, it seemed to go quicker and smoother than expected.  
‘Holy shit…’ you couldn’t believe your eyes when reading through some of the reports. You had almost forgotten to copy them in a safe classified cloud before the privacy settings of Senso-Cell disappeared.  
The time arrived for some on-site research, which meant placing the individuals under surveillance in their natural habitats. You’d always felt butterflies in your stomach when travelling through artificial wormholes to other dimensions - the coordinates weren’t bulletproof, just like having an old GPS that routes you to the wrong direction. However, it was widely rumoured in the states controlled by the Federation that a rogue scientist had invented a portal gun for interdimensional travel - although no one had ever confirmed it.  
You didn’t have any more time to waste, therefore after stocking up with weapons and gadgets, you headed off to the secret lab accommodating the device that could transmit the magnetic field from one point in space to another point. Normally it took you twenty minutes on the shuttle - you had always chosen the time carefully: when only a few people travelled and you could blend in easily, whilst monitoring them. You had to be extra vigilant, since your rivals/enemies could attack from any angle, any time, especially when you were heading for the location of a classified wormhole.  
Not that you’d believed in angels or anything of that sort, but someone must’ve looked out for you today. You arrived to the warehouse without any incidents. You entered the code, took the hydraulic elevator to the basement and entered the lab after a facial-recognition scan.  
‘I really wish you stopped doing that’ you told Alan, the technician, who controlled the portal, among other things.  
‘Sorry, Y/N, even the outlawed need some rules’ he replied. ‘Besides, I can’t just let anyone off the street pop in here!’  
‘Yeah, ‘cause this place carries such an out-there look; I’m surprised it’s not featured on the Galactic Tourist Board’ you mocked. Alan just casually replied, flipping you off: ‘Up yours, too, Red Scorpion!’  
‘You agreed not to call me that in here!’ you snapped.  
‘Whatever’ he shrugged his shoulders. ‘Do you have the coordinates or am I in for a treat for more of your witty remarks?’  
‘Here’ you handed him the coordinates. He took a glance at them and whistled in amazement.  
‘Wow! You know this is a suicide-mission, right?’  
‘I appreciate your concern, but I don’t have time to chat. Just set this up, please’ you hissed.  
‘Your wish is my command’ Alan winked at you and entered the coordinates. A huge gravitational tunnel appeared in the middle of the room. You took a deep breath and stepped into it. 

It was nighttime on the other side. You arrived to a bar full of enthralling characters. This place was outside the jurisdiction of the Galactic Federation; therefore it was an ideal meeting place for fugitives or anyone who’d ever crossed the Federation and became an outlaw.  
You spotted a great seat in the back of the bar, where you had an excellent view to the guests. Based on your research, the target came here every Friday sometimes accompanied by his mates, other times just by himself.  
You didn’t have to wait in vain: a tall, lanky man in special units uniform, wearing a red headband walked in and ordered a large whisky. You waited patiently for him to finish his numerous drinks. Finally he stood up and walked towards the restrooms. You followed him, keeping a distance. After making sure the hallway leading to the restroom was clean, you entered the men’s toilet. Everything was quiet, only one cubicle had its door shut. You cocked your gun and kicked the door in.  
The cubicle was empty.  
You took a deep breath; turned around quickly, checking all the other cubicles.  
‘Motherfucker’ you murmured. He had definitely come in to the loo! Had to be here! Unless…  
From the corner of your eye you saw the emerald wortex appear on the wall and he stepped out of it.  
‘Took you long enough’ he smirked, pointing his gun at you. Before you could activate your plasma shield, he lifted his other hand, featuring a tiny remote control. Suddenly, you felt a sharp sting, similar to an electric shock passing through your body, causing all your muscles to spasm at once. You lost control of your motor skills entirely, and fell onto the ground. The last thing you saw was his boots, walking towards you in slow-motion - then your vision started to blur, and finally you passed out.


End file.
